mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind. So, at what age did you know you wanted to sing?”
That was weird. What did he mean? And why did he change the subject? He stared, waiting for my answer.
“Oh, about ten, I guess. I never had any formal training, though. Wait. I take that back, I had about five singing lessons. Other than that, I just started singing at home. I’m sure I drove my parents crazy. I know I drove my brother crazy.”
“You have a brother?”
“He’s not around anymore.” I looked down at my plate.
“I’m sorry. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Thank you. Um, he was an IPCI agent. International Paranormal Crime Investigators.” Buzz didn’t blink at the mention of IPCI. Obviously, he was accustomed to the paranormal world. But how did he fit into it? “I don’t really like to talk about it.”
He nodded. “I understand.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin. Rick had always used his shirtsleeve. What had I seen in that guy, anyway? “How’d you get the band started?”
“I sang with a couple others, but people aren’t serious, they move away, or something happens. So after a while, I decided to start my own.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I grinned. “Me too. I placed an ad and Frank replied, then Craig. I didn’t expect vampires, but they were good, so I let the whole witch—” I stopped myself. I didn’t know what he was, and I wasn’t going to mention my witch status. “Do you need a refill?” I asked.
“No, I’m good. What were going to say?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t remember.” I waved off the question.
“Frank and Craig are vampires?”
“You didn’t know?” This was my chance to ask what he was. But I didn’t know how to ask. How did I word a question like that? So do you suck down blood like an alcoholic at happy hour or howl at the moon? Shirelle strolled over with more napkins, then Buzz started eating again and I lost my opportunity.
“So we need to get back to practice, I guess,” I said, taking the last sip from my drink and trying hard not to make that slurping noise while getting the last drop.
“Yeah, I need the practice to keep up with your greatness. A record producer is coming to see you, huh?”
His compliment made my stomach flip. “Yes, he got hold of my CD. Well, to be honest, I sent it to him, but I never thought he’d actually listen to it. Don’t know how it didn’t make it to the trashcan, but I'm glad it didn’t. Now I have to impress him. No pressure there.”
Buzz stood. “No, no pressure.” He grabbed the ticket. “I got it.”
“No, I can’t let you pay for mine.”
He touched my arm. My entire arm tingled under his touch. When those adorable dimples appeared on his cheeks, it sent an electrical current through my body. “You can get mine next time. Think of it as a thank you for picking me to join the band.”
Next time? I tried to contain my smile at the thought. But I really did hope there was a next time. Although, in spite of his good looks, I had to remember, he was a stranger. He’d walked in off the street and I didn't know a thing about him. Now was not the time to let looks sway me and allow my guard down.
Buzz placed cash down by the register.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Shirelle said to Buzz. “And tell Frank I said hi.”
He looked at me with a nervous grin. “I won’t,” he said. “Be a stranger that is,” he added.
She winked at me. “I know you’ll be back soon.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll be back.”
Buzz placed his hand on the small of my back. There was that tingle again. Although, it seemed as if he was rushing me out of there more than he was being gentlemanly. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his father with Shirelle. I certainly had things I didn’t want to discuss, too, so I understood.
Halfway from the diner door to my car, Buzz grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him. We sprinted toward the building. Well, it was more like Buzz sprinted and I came
“Nothing. Never mind. So, at what age did you know you wanted to sing?”
That was weird. What did he mean? And why did he change the subject? He stared, waiting for my answer.
“Oh, about ten, I guess. I never had any formal training, though. Wait. I take that back, I had about five singing lessons. Other than that, I just started singing at home. I’m sure I drove my parents crazy. I know I drove my brother crazy.”
“You have a brother?”
“He’s not around anymore.” I looked down at my plate.
“I’m sorry. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Thank you. Um, he was an IPCI agent. International Paranormal Crime Investigators.” Buzz didn’t blink at the mention of IPCI. Obviously, he was accustomed to the paranormal world. But how did he fit into it? “I don’t really like to talk about it.”
He nodded. “I understand.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin. Rick had always used his shirtsleeve. What had I seen in that guy, anyway? “How’d you get the band started?”
“I sang with a couple others, but people aren’t serious, they move away, or something happens. So after a while, I decided to start my own.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I grinned. “Me too. I placed an ad and Frank replied, then Craig. I didn’t expect vampires, but they were good, so I let the whole witch—” I stopped myself. I didn’t know what he was, and I wasn’t going to mention my witch status. “Do you need a refill?” I asked.
“No, I’m good. What were going to say?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t remember.” I waved off the question.
“Frank and Craig are vampires?”
“You didn’t know?” This was my chance to ask what he was. But I didn’t know how to ask. How did I word a question like that? So do you suck down blood like an alcoholic at happy hour or howl at the moon? Shirelle strolled over with more napkins, then Buzz started eating again and I lost my opportunity.
“So we need to get back to practice, I guess,” I said, taking the last sip from my drink and trying hard not to make that slurping noise while getting the last drop.
“Yeah, I need the practice to keep up with your greatness. A record producer is coming to see you, huh?”
His compliment made my stomach flip. “Yes, he got hold of my CD. Well, to be honest, I sent it to him, but I never thought he’d actually listen to it. Don’t know how it didn’t make it to the trashcan, but I'm glad it didn’t. Now I have to impress him. No pressure there.”
Buzz stood. “No, no pressure.” He grabbed the ticket. “I got it.”
“No, I can’t let you pay for mine.”
He touched my arm. My entire arm tingled under his touch. When those adorable dimples appeared on his cheeks, it sent an electrical current through my body. “You can get mine next time. Think of it as a thank you for picking me to join the band.”
Next time? I tried to contain my smile at the thought. But I really did hope there was a next time. Although, in spite of his good looks, I had to remember, he was a stranger. He’d walked in off the street and I didn't know a thing about him. Now was not the time to let looks sway me and allow my guard down.
Buzz placed cash down by the register.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Shirelle said to Buzz. “And tell Frank I said hi.”
He looked at me with a nervous grin. “I won’t,” he said. “Be a stranger that is,” he added.
She winked at me. “I know you’ll be back soon.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll be back.”
Buzz placed his hand on the small of my back. There was that tingle again. Although, it seemed as if he was rushing me out of there more than he was being gentlemanly. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his father with Shirelle. I certainly had things I didn’t want to discuss, too, so I understood.
Halfway from the diner door to my car, Buzz grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him. We sprinted toward the building. Well, it was more like Buzz sprinted and I came
Similar Books
